


Hotter Than Coffee

by Dexterous_Sinistrous



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Barista Stiles Stilinski, Deputy Derek Hale, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8874736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/pseuds/Dexterous_Sinistrous
Summary: “So, is there a reason my son’s phone number is on my coffee, and he wants me to call him?” The Sheriff questioned as he looked up over his glasses at Derek.Derek’s eyes widened as he looked at the Sheriff. “What?”The Sheriff slowly spun his coffee cup around on the desk, the coffee shop’s logo coming into view very slowly.Derek’s eyes were glued onto the coffee cup, terrified at seeing what the Sheriff was asking. His heart stuttered when he saw the beginning of the words written in Sharpie.   Call me if you want something a bit hotter, Stiles xoxox





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, darlings!
> 
> This fic is part of the Eternalsterek Secret Santa 2016! It is a gift for the lovely [hufflepuff-at-ilvermorny](http://hufflepuff-at-ilvermorny.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Hope you enjoy this! <3

“Good morning, Deputy,” Erica greeted Derek with a smirk as she leaned over the counter. “Catch any bad guys this lovely day?”

Derek arched his eyebrow at her, knowing that Erica was up to something. “Do I want to ask why you’re being so strange this morning?”

“I’m always strange,” Erica scoffed at him, as if it was an insult for him to think that today was anything different. “We have your order ready, per usual,” she continued, sliding off the counter to retrieve the tray of coffees.

“Thanks,” Derek answered, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“Would you stop that?” Erica huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, ready to turn her nose up at Derek. “You know Stiles’ policy.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No ifs, ands, or buts,” Erica answered. “Law enforcement gets free coffee in the mornings and nights. Stiles twisted my arm into memorizing that, so you’re going to abide by it.”

Derek sighed, slipping a five-dollar bill from his wallet to place in the tip jar before putting his wallet back.

“Ugh, you even tip obnoxiously,” Erica grimaced. “What’s wrong with you, Hale?” She playfully questioned.

Derek faintly smiled, lingering longer than usual as he waited for any sign of Stiles.

Stiles was normally the one that always hung around the counter waiting for him. He would smile and hop down from the counter, energetic and nearly jittering from the caffeine he was endlessly taking in since he opened the shop. He’d laugh and joke with Derek, asking small questions about the Sheriff’s wellbeing.

A slow, all too knowing smile slowly slipped onto Erica’s lips as she leaned against the counter, looking up at Derek. “Waiting to see your boyfriend?” She purred.

“He’s— We’re not dating, Erica,” Derek partially growled, stumbling through his blush.

Erica wiggled her eyebrows at Derek. “You’re adorable now that you’re not just my intimidating Alpha,” she commented, slipping back off of the counter. “Stiles was right, just like a bunny.”

Derek partially tensed, uncertain what Erica meant. “And that means?” He questioned, knowing that Erica would tell him the minute she saw how strangely serious he was.

“You know,” Erica started, beginning to fill the cups into the dispensers. “Harmless like a bunny,” she shrugged, looking at Derek. “I think it’s the teeth, too, you know?”

Derek’s eyebrow slowly arched.

“Your teeth,” Erica gestured towards her own mouth, making ridiculously fake front teeth with some of the straws. “You’re not a horse or anything, but your front two teeth pop out when you smile at Stiles.”

Derek subconsciously clamped his jaw tighter, stiffly nodding as he turned to leave. “I have to go.”

“Goodbye to you, too!” Erica loudly called after him, obviously annoyed by his sudden dismissal of her.

Derek tried to keep his wits about him, ignoring the swirling in his stomach when he looked up and saw Stiles coming out of the backroom.

Stiles was talking to Erica, his features slowly falling before a chaste smile pulled at his lips. He looked out of the coffee shop’s front window, his smile blossoming when he saw Derek. He gave a shy wave to Derek as a response.

Derek couldn’t stop himself from waving back to Stiles.

~*~

Derek kept to himself, almost walking in a daze as he handed out the coffee to the other deputies before making his way into the Sheriff’s office.

The Sheriff was on the phone when Derek knocked on his door. He smiled at Derek, gesturing for him to come in.

“I’ll make sure,” the Sheriff stated, an amused smile pulling at his lips. “I know,” he added. “Goodbye, son,” he sighed, promptly hanging up.

Derek shyly looked at the Sheriff, knowing that he must have been talking to Stiles. He felt childish, as if he was in high school again.

“How’s the case coming along?” The Sheriff asked, looking down through his glasses as he inspected his report.

“I think I’m making some progress,” Derek offered, placing the coffee down on the Sheriff’s desk.

“Glad to hear it,” the Sheriff answered. “I’m sure you’ll be solving it in no time,” he faintly smiled. He was proud of Derek, more so than any other deputy he trained.

Derek was exceptional at his job. He worked his way up from rookie in no time, achieving a better record than some of the more seasoned deputies. Beacon Hills was a relatively small department compared to the New York branch Derek transferred from. There had been a few incidents with anti-werewolf protests that resulted poorly for the department. Derek had been implemented as the main focal point of biased and hatred, protesters claiming that he was against every non-werewolf he encountered. The truth of the matter was that Derek pissed off a lot of people who thought a born wolf shouldn’t be outshining them.

That was how Derek came to be working in Beacon Hills. He moved home, much to the joy of his family. Everyone was happy to have Derek back home, away from the higher probability of injury he was the target of.

Derek seemed to settle in just fine, taking the K-9 unit jokes in stride, giving back as much taunt as he received. The deputies settled down after the first few weeks, especially if the Sheriff was lingering near the bullpen, giving a disappointed glare at anyone who tried to compare Derek’s keen sense of detective skills to dog traits.

“I wish there wasn’t as much controversy over what is happening,” Derek answered, still feeling uneasy about the current caseload the entire department was taking on. For a small town, Beacon Hills was inherently overwhelmed with trouble.

“Things will all fall together,” the Sheriff offered. “Eventually,” he added as an afterthought.

Derek lingered by the door, as if he was waiting for the Sheriff to notice him. In all honesty, Derek was still focusing his thoughts on Stiles, wondering if the Sheriff’s phone call earlier pertained at all to Stiles.

“How was my son?” The Sheriff asked, looking up at Derek, his pen poised mid air as he waited for a response.

“He seemed happy,” Derek replied, unsure how he was supposed to answer the Sheriff question without giving something away.

“He usually is when you come in,” the Sheriff replied with a knowing smile.

Derek opened his mouth to ask what the Sheriff meant, only to be cut off by a knock on the office door. He turned to see Parrish leaning his head in the doorway, a folder in his hand.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Parrish uttered when he saw that Derek was staring at him in an almost daze.

“That’s alright, Parrish,” the Sheriff replied, placing his pen back on his desk. “Derek and I were just chatting about the caseload.”

Derek didn’t bother to correct him—sometimes Stiles did feel like part of the caseload.

“We have a lead, sir,” Parrish announced, moving into the office.

Derek lingered after Parrish left to track down the lead. He started to look through the files with the Sheriff, hoping to find something, when the subject of Stiles came up once again.

“So, is there a reason my son’s phone number is on my coffee, and he wants me to call him?” The Sheriff questioned as he looked up over his glasses at Derek.

Derek’s eyes widened as he looked at the Sheriff. “What?”

The Sheriff slowly spun his coffee cup around on the desk, the coffee shop’s logo coming into view very slowly.

Derek’s eyes were glued onto the coffee cup, terrified at seeing what the Sheriff was asking. His heart stuttered when he saw the beginning of the words written in Sharpie.

_Call me if you want something a bit hotter, Stiles xoxox_

There was a winking smiley next to a phone number.

Derek felt the horror slowly taking over him, his insides twisting with the threat of causing physical illness as an excuse to leave.

“I personally don’t want to know anything about my son’s extracurricular activities, even if they do include one of my deputies,” the Sheriff began when he realized Derek wasn’t going to say anything.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I didn’t even know Stiles wrote that,” Derek started, his face heating up.

Derek liked working in Beacon Hills. He liked working with the Sheriff. He liked how welcoming the town was compared to the city. He was desperate not to have that all come crashing down just because Stiles wrote a flirtatious invitation on a coffee cup meant for him.

“This is your coffee cup, correct?” The Sheriff pressed.

“I … I think?” Derek offered, uncertain who Stiles intended the coffee for. He knew that it was his, though—Stiles always put inspirational things on his cup. But Derek had been too busy today to pay attention to the cups as he handed them out, not realizing that he was holding the Sheriff’s coffee in his hand.

The Sheriff released his hold on the coffee cup as if it was hot enough to burn him. “He’s going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” he sighed, pushing the cup towards Derek. He gestured for Derek to give him his cup, which Derek happily complied.

“Are you two dating?” The Sheriff asked, popping the lid off of the coffee Derek just handed him, peering inside to inspect if Stiles did in fact put at least some sort of sweetener—almond milk would even do at this point. He rifled through his draws a bit, smiling to himself when he pulled out a sugar packet from the spares he had hidden in the safety of his desk’s drawer, away from Stiles.

“We haven’t really even flirted?” Derek tried to answer, not knowing why his words formed a question instead.

“Son,” the Sheriff sighed, shaking the packet a bit to gage if the sugar was still good enough—he knew it was the best he was going to get. “Stiles isn’t that complicated to figure out in the end.”

Derek looked up at the Sheriff, a bit surprised he was sharing this information with him.

“He is open about his flirtations with people, unafraid of being embarrassed when someone rejects him,” the Sheriff explained, looking down at his coffee to make sure he managed to get all the sugar into the cup. “But it’s different with you. He actually watches what he says and does. He keeps a close eye on making sure that you are comfortable with him. And frankly, whether I like it or not, you’ve been flirting with my son for the past few months and the entire office has been subjected to it.”

“Do you … mind?” Derek weakly asked, unsure if he was crossing over some unmarked bounds with the Sheriff.

“I’m not a cliché overprotective father,” the Sheriff answered. “I do trust you with my life, Derek, and the lives of my deputies. But when it comes to my son, he’s the most important thing in my life.” His expression softened some, his thoughts lingering on Claudia. “You understand that I’d do anything for him.”

Derek nodded, displaying his understanding.

“All I ask is that you’re willing to do the same,” the Sheriff elaborated.

Derek hesitated, taking in the serious turn the Sheriff’s expression took. He knew what it meant to care for another person more than himself. He knew what it felt like to lose loved ones—to feel responsible. The inherent fondness that bubbled up in Derek’s gut when he thought about having someone in his life he’d be willing to do anything for. But what Derek felt for Stiles was more than just fondness.

It was an abundance of want.

Derek wanted to see Stiles more, every time he went into the coffee shop. He loved listening to Stiles’ rants about the most random subjects. He couldn’t’ stop himself from smiling whenever Stiles laughed at one of his “stupid dad jokes,” as Erica called them.

"I think I could one day be," Derek truthfully answered. "Your son means a great deal to me. And I would like to see if we could be more."

The Sheriff nodded in acceptance, leaning over his desk in order to push the coffee cup the rest of the way towards Derek. “Then I believe you have a phone call to make, deputy.”

~*~

Derek drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of his car, his eyes watching Stiles and Erica cleaning up the coffee shop inside. It was nearly close, Derek knowing that he should just call Stiles instead of making a bumbling idiot of himself. He sighed, telling himself that the Sheriff wouldn’t build up his hope just to have him fail miserably.

Derek worked up the courage to get out of his car, running across the lot and towards the coffee shop. He reached for the door, almost jumping back when the door opened up to Erica.

“Oh,” Erica smiled. “Hello, deputy,” she smirked as she suggestively wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Erica,” Derek partially grumbled.

“Derek,” Stiles faintly uttered in surprise when he realized why Erica was holding the door open. He moved from the counter, hooking the towel in his small apron as he twisted his hands before getting closer to them both.

“We’re closed,” Erica commented.

“You can come in, though,” Stiles countered, wanting Erica to get out of the way and allow Derek to come inside.

“I was about to head out,” Erica explained, looking at Stiles.

“You can still head out,” Stiles answered. “I think I’m safe with a deputy,” he partially laughed, waiting for Erica to leave and stop drawing out the awkwardness of waiting.

“Cool,” Erica answered, slipping out of the door and leaving Derek to grab it, preventing it from slamming shut on him. “Have a nice night you two,” she called, turning and winking at them.

Stiles started awkwardly laughing. “Erica, she’s …”

“I know,” Derek commented, offering Stiles a small smile.

“Come on in,” Stiles fondly offered, stepping back to give Derek room.

Derek walked in, closing the door behind him. He watched Stiles idly picking up the random trash some people left on the tables.

“Sorry about Erica this morning,” Stiles started, throwing the trash away. “She said that you were a little annoyed when you left.”

“A little,” Derek truthfully stated, his eyes tracking Stiles’ movement.

“Even though she’s your beta, she can still get on your nerves, huh?” Stiles sheepishly asked. He moved behind the counter, hurriedly tapping away at the register as he started to close the system down. He hesitantly looked up at Derek when he didn’t respond to him. “Sorry. I know talking about pack stuff is like, a no no for people not in them—”

“You’re part of Scott’s pack,” Derek corrected him, silently reprimanding himself for mindlessly staring at Stiles.

“I’m just human, though,” Stiles answered, slightly frowning.

“I’m annoyed with Erica for meddling, Stiles,” Derek stated. “I could care less that you are human talking about werewolf pack dynamics.” He saw the worry deflate from Stiles’ body. “You don’t degrade us, but actually strive to understand us. It’s refreshing.”

Stiles faintly smiled at Derek. “What did Erica do that’s meddling?”

“She was pressing matters about me,” Derek offered, settling his hands on his belt. “Me and dating.”

Stiles’ mouth fell partially open, his words stuck in his throat as he began to panic. “Right,” he softly uttered, turning back to the screen of the register. “Well, um, she can be pretty bad,” he tried to be sympathetic, his nimble fingers pointlessly tapping against the touch screen.

“She wouldn’t take my money this morning either,” Derek added, finding Stiles’ sudden quietness almost as unsettling as his own nervousness.

“You know I don’t take money from officers for their morning coffee,” Stiles countered, finally looking at Derek.

“Well, you could make it up to me,” Derek stated, moving closer to the counter. He traced his fingertips against the edge of the laminated top.

Stiles drew in a steady breath, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “I could?”

Derek nodded, releasing a faint hum. “I was thinking, instead of coffee, you’d let me buy you dinner.”

Stiles licked his lips, gently biting down on his bottom lip. It was sinful, if Derek was honest. “I’d … I’d like that.”

~*~

Stiles couldn’t stop snorting with laughter as he rolled around on the bed, sheets precariously strewed across his body.

Derek huffed in annoyance, his arms cross tight against his bare chest as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I’m not— I’m not laughing at you,” Stiles wheezed, his laughs almost turning to gasps. “Der, I promise.”

“It looked like your hand writing and had your scent all over it,” Derek defended himself.

“I always make your coffee, of course my scent was all over it. That’s such a bad pick up line, though,” Stiles sighed, wiping the tears from his eyes as he leaned into Derek’s shoulder.

“Which is why I easily thought it was from you,” Derek grumbled.

Stiles playfully smacked at Derek’s chest. “I had plans to woo you, but Erica beat me to it. And I can’t believe my dad thought that I’d write that on your cup. He knew I had everything planned out.”

“He’s the one that told me to ask you out,” Derek replied.

“I’ll have to actually give him some sweetener for his coffee for a while as a thank you, then,” Stiles commented, pulling at Derek’s arm to make room for himself against Derek’s chest.

Derek moved his arm, allowing Stiles to snuggle up under his arm. He wasn’t going to admit that he had been itching to have Stiles like this for a while, to have his arm around him and feel safe. He wouldn’t admit either that his wolf felt calm—content in having Stiles this close; in protecting him. He was more than willing to be a cuddly bunny instead of a terrifying wolf if it meant he could always wrap himself around Stiles like this.

“So, was I?” Stiles asked as he yawned, his cheek smushed against Derek’s chest as he cuddled closer.

“Were you what?” Derek asked, closing his eyes.

“Was I hotter than your coffee?”

Stiles’ burst of laughter was short lived when Derek grasped the sheet back, smothering Stiles in kisses that silenced his teasing.


End file.
